


Booty Looters

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Derek Hale, Dubious Consent, HaleCest, Incest, M/M, Oneshot, Other, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Season 3, Tentacle Monster - Freeform, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Derek run into a bit more than hunters while they're in South America. Predictably, that's Peter's fault too. </p><p>Or, the one where Derek and Peter get attacked by a tentacle monster and it takes an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booty Looters

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think! (or correct any errors that I missed.)

_“Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?” Peter asks._

_Derek rolls his eyes and looks away from his uncle in resigned irritation. “Because it is your fault.” Derek says, just before another shock comes._

_That’s the short version, anyway. The long version’s just a bit more complicated than that…_

 

~`*`~ ~`*`~ ~`*`~

**_3 days prior_ **

“Did you lose them?” Derek asks when Peter rejoins him near a pile of rocks. They’re in a forest in South America, seeking out some treasure that Derek won’t actually tell Peter about. At least, not in any detail.

“Would I be here if I didn’t?” Peter asks. He's managed to draw the attention of some hunters in town, which has made their journey exponentially more difficult and has prompted Derek to send Cora off into hiding. He hasn't trusted Peter enough to do the same with him though, so he's gritted his teeth and stuck with the wolf.

Derek doesn’t respond to Peter, because he’s pretty sure Peter would lead the hunters directly to him just so he didn’t have to face them alone, but he also knows Peter’s smart enough and strategic enough to get them off his tail fairly easily. Instead, Derek just turns and they continue their journey.

The path they take leads them to the mouth of a cave. Derek can smell the musk and dampness already and he shares a quick look with Peter before ducking down and going inside the small passage. Peter comes in behind him and they flash their eyes, maneuvering around rocks and boulders and stepping carefully across the slick floor as they travel downwards.

“What, exactly, are we looking for?” Peter whispers.

“A lake.” Derek replies. He’s not actually sure of where they need to go, lacks the confidence that comes with familiarity, but Cora had been pretty clear in her instruction.

“A lake. That’s specific.” Peter mutters and Derek shoots him a glare. “Shutting up.” Peter says, holding his hands up in surrender.

Derek clenches his jaw and turns back to face the cave, continuing their voyage. The tunnel splits off in three ways and he takes the southern-most one, which heads even further down into the earth. Peter’s surprisingly quiet and Derek has to glance at him to make sure he’s still there. He feels uneasy when he finds Peter staring at him contemplatively, and an uncomfortable feeling twists in his gut, the way it always does when Peter’s too close or stares too long. Derek looks away and tries to ignore it.

“You don’t actually know where we’re going, do you?” Peter asks.

Derek falters and takes a deep breath. “I know enough.”

“You’ve never been to South America.” Peter states. “Do you at least know what Cora hid here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ever going to tell me?”

“We’ll see.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “You know, eventually you’re going to have to start trusting me again.”

“We’ll see.” Derek repeats.

They proceed, an unbearably long amount of time passing as they move onwards. Derek can’t help feeling that they’re only getting more lost even when he’s memorized Cora’s instruction. Unfortunately, she’d been a bit foggy on where the lake actually is, and he's starting to doubt that they’ll find it any time soon.

Derek freezes, broken from his worries when he hears a slight scuffle. It’s small and extremely far away, back near the entrance of the cave, which they’re a good few miles away from, but it’s worrying nonetheless.

“Peter.” Derek bites out. There are footsteps, multiple footsteps, and he has a really good idea who they belong too. “Are you _sure_ you lost the hunters?”

“I was.” Peter says, looking at Derek somewhat abashed.

Derek huffs. “Dammit.”

A low whistle sounds over the area – dog whistles – and he covers his ears, glaring at Peter.

“We should go.” Peter says.

“Where?” Derek asks incredulously. The tunnel goes downward, there’s no way they’re getting back to the surface.

Peter looks around and his face lights up in delight. He grabs Derek’s bicep and it's survival instinct more than anything that keeps Derek from pulling away when Peter starts to drag him forward. It becomes even more difficult to resist the urge when he sees where Peter’s leading him – a small hole in the side of the wall, barely big enough for one of them to crawl through.

Derek goes in first. It’s claustrophobic and unpleasant, but he's been in worse, so he army crawls his way downward, sliding a bit in the smoother, wetter areas and struggling through the dryer passages. Slime and buildup stick to him, leaving behind a gross residue that has him longing for a shower.

When he finally does emerge, it’s on the shore of a petite, water-filled cavern, which shimmers with reflective light from the pool. Peter knocks into him on the way out of the tunnel and Derek stumbles, almost stepping into the water. He manages to save himself last minute and back out of the way as Peter comes to stand.

“Huh.” Peter says as he takes in the water. “This is the lake?” He asked.

Derek nods. He thinks it’s the lake, anyway, but he’s not prepared to feel too lucky. He makes out the top arch of a passage on the opposite wall and nods toward it. “What we’re looking for should be on the other side.” He says.

“We have to swim?” Peter asks, displeased.

“Yep.” Derek says, stripping his shirt off. He doesn’t like the way Peter’s eyes track the movement and swallows uneasily, kicking his shoes off and moving to undo his belt. Peter follows suit beside him, getting undressed and folding his clothes up neatly. Derek is much less pristine, allowing his attire to crumple to the floor in a careless heap.

“Oh, and Peter?” He says when they’re finally naked and ready to enter the water. “Don’t take anything.”

“Oh please, Derek, have a little faith in me.” Peter says.

Derek wades into the water, taking a deep breath before ducking under the surface and swimming over to the conduit, rising up for another breath and then diving down into the murky water. It’s difficult to see down in the liquid depths, which run far deeper than it would appear from the surface, and he has an unsettling feeling about it. It’s a relief when he gets to the shore again and pulls himself up onto dry rock. The cold air’s a shock to his wet skin and he shivers while he gets to his feet, goose bumps breaking out over his body.

Peter comes up safely too, giving a minor complaint at how he hates swimming before focusing on the cavern they’ve arrived in. There’s a laughably cliché pile of treasure making up the far wall and Peter snorts.

“Pirate treasure? Really, Derek?”

“Remember, don’t take anything.” Derek reiterates.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

To get to the valuables, they’re forced to walk along a narrow path at the water’s edge, hunching low so as not to hit the curved ceiling. Derek sees little bubbles of air come up to the pool’s surface and he doesn’t want to think what might be under there. He’s sure there’s something though. Cora hinted at it, but couldn’t give him a lot of details.

They make it safely to the treasure trove and Derek examines the collection carefully, tracing the outlines for something in particular. His gaze alights on a box – a very familiar box – with the triskele carved into the wood. He carefully digs the object out, feeling something like relief settle in him. It’s not done, they still have the hunters and they still have to get back to Beacon Hills, but he’s finally got what they came for.

He turns to look at Peter and his mouth falls into a frown. “What are you doing?” He asks.

Peter’s picking up artifacts and inspecting them, but Derek’s more concerned that he’s got one in particular trapped in his grip – a small medallion.

“Just looking.” Peter says.

“Put it back.” Derek orders, nodding at Peter’s souvenir.

“Oh come on, we’re already taking something.”

“That’s different. Put it back.” Derek orders again.

Peter lets out a huff and sets the medallion on the pile. He’s too rough though, and he ends up causing coins and jewels to avalanche off the top, rolling down and into the water.

“Oops.” He says insincerely. He pushes past Derek to make his way to the shore they landed on and Derek rolls his eyes, moving to follow. His journey is cut off when something slippery wraps around his ankle and tugs, pulling him into the pool. He drops the box, which lands on shore, and he starts to transform, claws extending and fangs elongating.

Derek falls into the water. It swirls over his head for a moment before he bobs back to the surface and something slinks around his waist. He tries to swipe at the creature with his claws, but something snaps out of the pool and binds his wrist too. Derek’s eyebrows furrow and he stares in shock at the tentacle that grips him.

_Tentacle._

**‘Oh, hell.’** He thinks, because he can’t really dream up a lot of ways this could go – mostly just being drowned or eaten.

There’s a curse and a splash as Peter’s pulled into the water too and Derek realizes that literally everything going wrong in his life is all Peter’s fault. He’s not sure why this is surprising if he’s being honest – it’s kind of been par for the course since Derek’s birth that Peter’s been the one getting him into trouble, and he's starting to think he needs to take a long, hard look at his life choices concerning his Uncle if they actually manage to get out of this.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that.” Peter says when he’s pulled alongside him. “How was I supposed to know?”

Derek’s nostrils flare as he huffs out a breath. “You were supposed to not touch anything.”

“No, I was supposed to not take anything. And I didn’t. You on the other hand…”

Derek’s so not in the mood for an argument, especially when he can feel a tentacle winding its way around his arms, keeping them pinned to his side. This allows the creature to remove its other appendages from his ankle and wrists, and apparently swim, since now he and Peter are being dragged into a small alcove in the cavern wall.

“You could be trying to come up with a plan.” Derek points out.

Peter sighs. “Your steadfast optimism in the face of unending obstacles is adorable, Derek, but gigantic tentacle creatures are a little outside the realm of my expertise.”

“So, we’re screwed?”

“Pretty much.”

Derek thinks somewhat dismally that this is how it ends – him and Peter in South America, killed by a gargantuan squid and/or octopus. It’s a bit anticlimactic, really, but it kind of seems like this is how he would go. It’s just ridiculous and implausible enough to be even a bit funny, not that anyone who’d have found it so is ever going to hear about it. He struggles unenthusiastically in the creature’s hold, letting out a frustrated sigh when all it accomplishes is a bit of splashed water and a more firm grip.

In the alcove, the monster adjusts its hold, tentacles curving around his thighs and just over the join in his elbow, the one previously wrapped around his torso moving instead to hold his waist as yet more tentacles curve around his wrists. The creature moves fast, faster than even Derek’s werewolf reflexes can keep up with, and he sees Peter struggle in a similar vein.

Peter and Derek are facing each other now, and Derek thinks that Peter’s really the last thing he wants to see before dying. Especially naked Peter, because the truth is, he and Peter have been skating around each other for years. It was interrupted by the fire and Peter’s coma, but there’s always been this thing between them, this odd tension that ran far past Uncle and Nephew and into something much more twisted, and he knows it. He knows Peter knows it too. Doesn’t change the fact that Peter murdered Laura. Doesn’t change the fact that Derek kind of really hates him.

Death doesn’t seem to be on the menu just yet however, judging by the tentacle that works its way up his body, stroking along the musculature and giving studious caresses to his frame. It seems less interested in Peter and Derek feels the absurd urge to point out that he’s been framed, because Peter was the one who upset the pile of jewels, not him. He doesn’t think the creature is of much a mind to listen though and he’d feel foolish doing it anyway. Instead, he grits his teeth, jumping in surprise when the monster puts force on odd pressure points – like his pelvis or his nipples. It strokes gently over his triskele tattoo, giving tender swipes against his shoulder blades. It’s ticklish, but not in an unpleasant way, and Derek shifts uncomfortably.

“Well, this is fun.” Peter notes dryly, looking terribly unimpressed with their predicament.

“You want it to hurry up?” Derek grits out, shying away when a tentacle strokes down his earlobe before following a trail across his jaw.

“That would be ideal, yes.” Peter answers.

Derek doesn’t get a chance to respond, alarm going through him when the creature’s limb caresses over his bottom lip before prodding at his mouth. It pushes its way in, sea-slick wetness leaving a foul kelp and algae taste on his tongue. Derek’s eyes widen and he tries to move his mouth away, but his path of escape, already hindered by his bound position, is further blocked by an appendage that sneaks its way up between his shoulder blades and to the back of his scalp, holding his head in place as his orifice is invaded further.

He looks helplessly at Peter, a silent question of what’s happening echoing in his mind and translating into his facial expression. Peter doesn’t have an answer and seems just as shocked as him.

Derek’s wolf howls in protest and he has to resist the urge to let his fangs come out and bear down on the tentacle. His eyes flash blue though and he can feel his claws coming out, ineffective and unnecessary when his wrists are still trapped in the beast’s grip.

The appendage wriggles in his mouth and he keeps back a gag. There’s an odd, thrusting motion afterwards, and a flush builds up on Derek’s face, every nerve in him recoiling at the gesture. It looks like Peter might be in for the same treatment as a limb comes out of the water and heads towards his mouth too, but Peter snaps, letting out a warning growl, and the tentacle retreats. Derek almost starts to fight back, figuring if it worked for Peter it could work for him too (not that it usually does), but then Peter disappears under the water. Derek lets out a noise of protest, muffled by the fullness in his mouth, and twitches restlessly in his captor’s grip, watching in horror as air bubbles come up to the surface where Peter previously was.

Derek’s legs are spread wider and he feels the water move as something squirms against his inner thigh, up near his groin. It skips his genitalia, focusing on the area around it, where it stimulates nerve endings and pleasure spots that seep warmth into him. He doesn’t feel warm though, even when sweat starts to build from the effort it takes to accept the tentacle thrusting in between his lips. He feels cold and he keeps staring at where Peter disappeared. Derek will forever deny the relief he feels when Peter appears above the surface again, still grasped in the beast’s hold, and looking pale and shaken, but very much alive as he gasps in deep, eager breaths.

Derek lets out a questioning sound, forgetting for a moment that he can’t actually speak. Peter shakes his head.

“I saw it.” Peter mutters.

Something cold drops in Derek’s stomach at the horrified note in Peter’s voice.

“Do what it wants. Don’t fight it.” Peter warns.

Derek wishes he could talk, tries to ask questions with his limited body language, but Peter refuses to elaborate and his mouth is soon occupied in the same way as Derek’s, which cuts whatever opportunity they might’ve had to converse abruptly short. The monster’s rougher with Peter than it is with Derek, ramming into his mouth somewhat carelessly. He takes the punishment well enough and Derek doesn’t have any time to worry about him when something’s pressing against Derek’s back entrance.

His breath freezes in his chest. He doesn’t move, doesn’t dare do so much as twitch as the touch circles his hole, slick liquid spreading against the pucker and the water shivering around him. He thinks the horror must read in his expression, because Peter lets out a curious noise, and when Derek looks over, it’s to see Peter gazing at him with concern. It’s surreal, watching the monster’s appendage work in and out between Peter’s lips, and Derek tries not to wonder if he has any practice with anything similar, given how easily he takes the intrusion.

Derek gives a shallow intake of air, legs quivering and stomach tensing anxiously. The tentacle starts to push in and he stares unseeingly at the cavern wall, where swirls of light dance across the stone, water rocking and rippling from the movement inside the alcove. He's unprepared for the stretch and burn as the tentacle goes in, and he tries to power through it, holding back the urge to fight and flee and focusing instead on relaxing around the violation. He thinks the creature’s trying to be gentle, but there’s a certain impatience in its movements, and it won’t give him the time to catch up as it pushes its way in.

The tentacle isn’t a solid weight inside of him, but a squirming mess, wriggling and slimy and unable to keep still as it penetrates him, it’s coating of moisture serving as lube and making it go in easier. The tip is the worst part, constantly moving, back and forth, circling around his inner walls and making his hole twitch at the sensation. The tentacle pulses, matching the throb of Derek’s entrance as it swells around the limb filling it.

The tentacle in his mouth pulls away, and Derek’s lips feel swollen and bruised and his tongue feels abnormally heavy. His whole mouth tingles and he doesn’t bother to close it as the limb moves over his chest, caressing over one nipple then the other, kneading at tender nerves and making his torso feel hot and tingly. Derek shuts his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to take it all in.

The appendage inside him stops pushing forward, but it doesn’t pull out, just slithers inside of him, writhing against neurons and unseen pleasure points. Derek does close his mouth then, clenching his teeth together and taking deep calming breaths through his nose to try to stop his body from getting worked up under the monster’s ministrations. He thinks it might be too late though, especially as the tentacle slides downward, disappearing under the water and running over his cock, which has started to swell and which already feels sensitive from slight, unintentional arousal. It turns out it’s not his cock the appendage is after, because it moves back to join its companion at his hole. Derek’s eyes open then, wide and distressed, as the second tentacle starts to penetrate him too.

“Derek?” Peter’s voice comes, huskier than usual, and Derek looks at him in surprise. He’d almost forgotten Peter was there.

Peter’s mouth has only just been freed, and Derek sees the creature’s arm snake into the murky pool. He should probably warn Peter, he thinks.

“Peter -” He starts to say, his voice coming out fragile and strained. He doesn’t manage more than that, because now that he’s gotten his vocal cords working again, it seems that every sound he was trying to hold back has decided to make its escape. He lets out a strangled groan as the second tentacle pushes in, broad and thick next to its twin and just as restless.

“Oh!” Peter says, looking at him in shocked realization. Peter’s face twists in pain and Derek figures his uncle's getting acquainted with his predicament. It’s kind of nice not be alone. “So you’re…” Peter gasps out. “Two?” He asks.

Derek’s not sure if Peter’s asking out of concern for him of if he’s preparing himself for what he might be in for. Derek suspects it’s the latter.

“Yes.” He manages. His nostrils flare at the scent of arousal that comes off of Peter at that.

“Well…” Peter mutters, sounding almost impressed.

Derek’s breath comes shallow and irregular as the beast’s other arm fills him, stretching him unnaturally and making him shake from exertion and sensitivity. There’s this vast, writhing mess inside him, both tips swirling against his insides and making his abdomen spasm unevenly. He has a moment - the briefest of moments – to take it all in before they start properly moving, taking turns thrusting in and out of him. Taken off guard, he cries out, back bowing away from the sensation. It’s a largely useless endeavor, since his arms and legs and waist are still bound, keeping him thoroughly secure, but the little wiggle room he’s offered at least gives him the momentary illusion that he could do more than writhe against the sensations.

Peter lets out a groan and Derek looks over to see his uncle’s eyes firmly on him. Peter’s pheromones hang thick in the air, a cloying aroma that has Derek quivering and resisting the urge to shake his head at Peter because all he can think is **‘not here, not now.’**

He can feel something in the air change as his body’s rocked with the motion of the tentacles inside of him. The thrusting’s all pain and bizarre, unprecedented pleasure that continues as he's pulled through the water and pressed back-first against a sloping rock on the rear of the alcove. His body’s angled backward, water lapping at his waist and cool air brushing his chest as his head comes to rest against smooth stone. His legs are held apart, knees sticking out of the water, and his hands are restrained against the stone, wrapped tightly in the hold of only one tentacle this time and held over his head.

Peter’s brought forward next, naked body pressed up against his, and Derek stares at him in panic. Derek’s cock isn’t fully hard yet, but it’s hard enough, and he feels Peter’s erection bump up against him.

“Peter…” He starts warningly. The tentacles have stilled inside him for a moment, offering him the chance to clear his head a bit and realize just how irreversibly fucked up this situation’s getting. He also realizes how horribly full and uncomfortable his asshole is, but he figures having his naked uncle’s hard penis pressed up against him is more important.

“I’m not doing anything.” Peter defends, a gasp escaping him when a tentacle sneaks between them and grabs hold of his erection. He's shifted, slick flesh rubbing against Derek’s and making the younger Hale's lungs freeze.

“I think you’re enjoying this too much.” Derek notes, trying not to think about Peter’s abdomen sliding against his cock.

“You have to take pleasure in the little things.” Peter says, groaning when he’s maneuvered and pushed against Derek’s entrance.

“No way.” Derek mutters. He’s too full, he’s way too full, and there’s no way Peter’s dick’s going to fit in there too. The monster seems determined though, and Derek doesn’t have much choice in the matter, so he just clenches his eyes shut, grinds his teeth together, and tries not to die as he feels yet more pressure at his entrance.

Unbelievably, he actually feels his hole stretching, widening even further under Peter’s cock, nerves blazing as the tip pushes inside. It’s huge, impossibly huge, and he's shaking at the seams, muscles going taut and sweat beading on his skin.

“Try to relax.” Peter says unhelpfully, voice choked and faint.

“You relax.” Derek growls back juvenilely, and if it’s not the best comeback, everyone can bite him, because he’s getting triple penetrated by a tentacle monster and his _uncle_ and he pretty much hates everything.

Peter’s cock pushes mercilessly forward and Derek’s teeth come out, wolf letting out a snarl and blue eyes narrowing warningly. Peter snaps back, face inches from his and wolf just as fierce, though far more controlled. Even with Peter just as bound as Derek, he seems stronger and more dominate, but Derek’s too used to it to let it affect him. Being transformed, even slightly, helps though, increasing his pain threshold and making him feel just a bit stronger. But then Peter’s nipping him on the chin and Derek’s wolf retreats, leaving him a gasping mess again.

He knows why Peter did it – Derek was losing control and being wolfed out like that, when he’s trapped and distressed, can be dangerous. It doesn’t make him any less pissed about it and he files this away as one of the many, many reasons he’s going to kill Peter.

Derek tries to muffle the whine that slips past his throat as his uncle gets further and further inside, cock pressing deep into his stuffed hole. It’s nauseatingly overwhelming and Derek can’t handle this much, could barely handle even a fraction of it, and his nerves are shaking and his body’s burning. Everything’s fire and pain and unwelcome pleasure.

Peter bottoms out and when Derek looks up at him through bleary eyes, he's staring down at him, hair matted with sweat and skin flushed. Derek bites back a groan and closes his eyelids, trying desperately not to think about it. He can’t handle that look on Peter’s face and he can’t handle Peter pressed against him and inside him, and he definitely can’t handle it when everything starts moving again.

The tentacles start wriggling all at once, taking turns thrusting in and out of him, and Peter’s rocked forward and back, little shallow motions that push Derek too far, too fast. Derek cries out in surprise, unable to hold the noise back, and he arches against the rock, hips tensing as he tries to back away.

“Fuck.” Peter moans above him.

Derek’s past cursing, past _thinking_ , and it’s all he can do to breathe. He’s not doing a terribly good job of the latter, each inhale ragged and strained, choking off on half moans and random, syllabic sounds that are punched out of him with every motion. It’s agony and something else and he can’t make sense of any of it, breaths sounding more like hiccups from the strength of whatever’s going through him.

“You’re so tight.” Peter says and Derek wants to point out that he’s tight because he’s got three things thrusting inside of him, pressing and stretching at his inner walls, stimulating every single nerve they reach, but all he can do is let out a distressed whimper and try to get air into his lungs.

It gets worse when a shift has Peter pressing against his prostate, milking him with each movement, and Derek thinks he’s going to break apart. He loses track of what’s happening, can’t make heads or tails out of anything anymore and thinks he might shatter into a million pieces.

He thinks Peter’s muttering something, but he can’t hear it, his heartbeat’s pounding so loudly in his ears and he thinks he’s on the verge of passing out from lack of oxygen, because try as he might he just can’t catch his breath. Precum’s leaking steadily from his cock, a constant stream as his over-stimulated prostate sends wave after wave of pleasure rocking through him.

The tentacles swirl inside of him, twisting and thrusting and wriggling, and Derek hiccups on a moan, body tensing and spasming. His ass is contracting, squeezing around the intrusion in him, and he feels like he might go numb, toes curling and muscles quivering. He almost chokes at the effort it takes to swallow down the build-up of saliva in his mouth, and he’s distantly aware that some’s dripped down his chin, but he can’t care too much when the tentacles slam into him even faster.

His orgasm hits him hard and he tries to flinch away from it, jolting and opening his mouth on a gasp as the last of his air is torn from his lungs. Hot liquid spurts out of him, his testicles drawing up tight and his cock throbbing intensely. Cum lands on his stomach, burning into his sweat soaked skin, and he wheezes, moaning and whimpering when the thrusting in him continues. It only lasts until Peter comes, erection painting liquid on Derek’s insides, and Derek trembles in the aftermath, feeling relieved when the tentacles slip away from him. As the monster relinquishes its hold, Peter slides out too, and Derek slips downward, too shaken to support himself. He finds himself underwater and doesn’t even have to strength to go back to the surface. Fortunately, Peter seems much better off, and his uncle reaches down, strong hands pulling him back up and supporting him against the slope once again.

Derek doesn’t think about how warm Peter’s hands are, or how nice it is to have that hot, firm body pressed against his. He doesn’t think about how gaping and empty his hole feels or how tender his cock is after such a strong orgasm. He does think about the box, back up on shore. The tentacle creature seems to have given up on them now, and he thinks it’ll be safe enough to retrieve their possession. He's not close to strong enough to swim yet though. He’s still shaking, and he still can’t seem to catch enough oxygen.

“Shhh. It’s okay.” Peter soothes, running a hand down his bicep.

Peter’s comforting him and that’s totally laughable, but Derek doesn’t seem to be able to even do that at the moment.

It’s a while before he starts to feel marginally calmer and at the first sign of his strength returning, he’s pushing away from Peter and swimming unsteadily away from the alcove. Peter has to help him up occasionally, because Derek’s still going far past his limit, but he shakes him off and keeps going, not relaxing until he’s back on shore and with the triskele box.

Peter doesn’t say anything and Derek doesn’t look at him, walking down the little bit of shore and towards the conduit back into the other cavern. They don’t run into the monster again and, while Derek still feels swollen and just fucked, he’s already preparing to put this whole mess behind them and forget about it.

They get back up on shore and he puts the box down, reaching for his jeans and stepping into them.

“You know-” Peter starts.

Derek glares at him. “We’re not talking about it.”

“We really should.” Peter points out.

Derek huffs, pulling his pants up and working on the belt.

“I just hope you’re not going to let this little incident affect our relationship.” Peter says, stepping into his jeans as well.

Derek stares at him incredulously. “I won’t.” He lies, because he’s definitely punishing Peter for this.

“It wasn’t all bad.” Peter mutters, doing up his own belt.

Derek narrows his eyes.

“Well, for one, I’ve never felt closer to you.” Peter points out and Derek thinks he might kill him right there.

Wherever this conversation was going is interrupted by the cock of a gun and Peter and Derek turn to find one of the hunters from before. He comes out of a second hidden entrance into the cavern, followed by a whole group of them, and Derek and Peter don’t even have time to put on their shirts before they’re captured.


End file.
